If you're from the United States of America, you're probably more familiar with the name

Mason Locke Weems than I am.

He was the author of the book, The Life of George Washington, which had the delicious subtitle,

with curious anecdotes equally honourable to himself and exemplary to his young countrymen.

With a title like that, how could it possibly fail to be a bestseller?

And actually it was when it first appeared in 1800. But apparently it wasn't until

a few years later, in the fifth edition, that Weems included the story about the six-year-old

George Washington and his new hatchet and his father's cherry tree that has become so famous.

I cannot tell a lie, I did cut it with my hatchet.

Of course, what makes these so famous words somewhat humorous is that apparently they're a fabrication.

I hesitate to call them a straight out lie. I don't mean Washington was telling a lie. I mean

that Mason-Lock-Weems apparently made up the story. His motives were good. He wanted to set

Washington before young people as a fine moral example to follow. But what is slightly curious about this story and ironic is that

Mason-Lock-Weems was an itinerate preacher, and McGuffey, who reworked the story and his famous

reader was a Presbyterian minister.

But they didn't seem to be telling the full truth about George Washington.

And I think that's sometimes true when we come to this particular commandment, the commandment

about honesty.

You shall not bear false witness.

One of the questions I think often arises in connection with this commandment is, well, is it ever

right to lie?

And of course the question becomes a little pressing because people sometimes, indeed, quite often

...